When I first met you I gasped. You were beautiful.
You didn’t have stranger anxiety, you had “anybody but Mommy” anxiety. Your eyes would follow me around a room like a painting in a haunted house. Always searching for me, never calming until I was near.
You demanded so much of me, too much, more than I could bear. You still demand much of me but now you give me patience and I give you more.
You are an artist. You can take a mistakenly drawn line and turn it into an intentional heart. Every drawing has a story like the one where you are “bothering the rainbow because he’s trying to sleep.” You are coloring within the lines and creating for the stars.
You are shy and confident, sensitive and daring, tenacious and diligent. While I hover and interfere you don’t need my protection merely my support.
And just as you always watched me I will always watch you. I will always see you.
Your father adores you, your older brother thinks you’re cute, your younger brother worships you and I, I, my dear, have found my partner.